


Firelight

by Winter_Elwood



Series: Steter Week 2019 [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Talia Hale, Creature Stiles Stilinski, Flowers, Fluff, I don't think people want 500 words on an eternally night old growth forest grove, I love Stile's grove, M/M, Nemeton, Nogitsune, Nymphs & Dryads, Romance, Short, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Steter Week, Steter Week 2019, The Hale Family (Teen Wolf) Lives, The Hale Pack - Freeform, because the first draft had that, grove, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 01:53:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20037961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winter_Elwood/pseuds/Winter_Elwood
Summary: Beacon Hills’ Nemeton had been reaching out for aid for decades, if not centuries, as they were neglected by their chosen guardians then later slowly poisoned due to choices of another.The call went unanswered for so long that the Nemeton grew weaker and weaker until finally, before it was too late, its pleas reached the ears of a being that had been sleeping within the earth for centuries, thousands of kilometres away.The Dark Dryad, Mischief, awoke to the plea, a plea for his aid, aid that has been unwanted for thousands of years.





	Firelight

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry is this is a little late but the rough draft was much longer than this due to multiple reasons, one is in the tags. This is my first actual story and Please feel free to tell me what you think.

Beacon Hills’ Nemeton had been reaching out for aid for decades, if not centuries, as they were neglected by their chosen guardians then later slowly poisoned due to choices of another.  
The call went unanswered for so long that the Nemeton grew weaker and weaker until finally, before it was too late, its pleas reached the ears of a being that had been sleeping within the earth for centuries, thousands of kilometres away.

The Dark Dryad, Mischief, awoke to the plea, a plea for his aid, aid that has been unwanted for thousands of years. 

Humans had turned away from him, shunning his dark forests and embracing the deities of light. He had been labelled as evil by the ones who once came to him for aid in passing through his forests safely or for the ability to safely handle the dangerous plants within the Dryad’s grove. In time all had abandoned him, so he withdrew into his grove for ages.

Yet, he would never ignore a plea for aid, no matter how bitter he felt. 

As he arose from the ground, the forest around them darkened as the ancient trees were revitalised by their presence, a dense carpet of vibrant moss covered the ground to soften his steps as he made his way to the healthy Nemeton in the heart of his forest. The trees brushing against him as he passed, dropping seeds into his long hair, only for them to sprout and intertwine themselves within his braids.

The plea may have come from half a world away, but all Nemetons were connected by the leylines that ran beneath the ground and a being as old as he was still knew how to travel through them.

________________

When he arrived in Beacon Hills he was taken aback by the state of the Nemeton. All that remained was a dying stump, withered to a sickly grey with crumbling bark stained black, it was only able to reach out weakly to them, pleading for him to put it out of its misery.

Mischief was in shock, why had none of the others answered the call? Where were the other Dryads? The ones who presented themselves as so much better then Mischief, beings of light who helped all who were in need.  
Where were they now?

He would find out that answer at a different time, he had more pressing concerns then the whereabouts of the other Dryads.

Placing his hands on the stump, Mischief slipped into the Nemeton to find the foreign presence he could feel poisoning the Nemeton, it was there that he was confronted with a Nogitsune.

It was clear that the fox had been sealed and trapped in the Nemeton for so long that it had gone nearly completely feral, so much so that when he tried to reach out to the fox it lashed out them violently, trying to worm its way inside of him and possess him.  
A mear thousand-year-old Nogitsune tried to possess him, it was like a toddler trying to win against an adult. 

Mischief would have been amused if he wasn’t so concerned about what had twisted the dark fox into this being consumed by pain and rage.  
In an instant, he had the fox trapped within his essence. Not hurting the fox, only restraining it. It would be so very easy for him to consume the fox as he had done to many who have tried to hurt him or his grove, but just because something was dark did not mean it deserved to die or that it should be locked away.  
The fox was pleading for help just like the Nemeton was, only it didn’t know how to do so without trying to hurt others.

With the Nogitsune contained within him, probably to remain there for many years, Mischief continued to head deeper into the Nemeton until he found its core, he nearly wept at the state of it. It never should have gotten to that state, it glowed so weakly when it should have shone with the brightness of a star.  
Cradling the core to his chest, Mischief unleashed a wave of his magic into the core until it began to glow brightly once more, though this was just the first step to recovery. He would have to do this many more times over the next decade to restore the core back to its natural healthy state.

\------------------

As Mischief withdrew from within the Nemeton the last thing he expected was for his new grove to be full of wolves, and it seems that they weren’t expecting him either.  
Though he supposed that it was understandable that they were drawn hereafter the burst of magic he let loose.

A stern-looking woman with long dark hair stood in front of the rest of the pack, she was clearly the Alpha, eyes that vibrant red he hasn’t seen in ages. His forest used to have many packs roaming the territory before many were slaughtered by humans who hated anything more powerful than themselves, the rest abandoned his forest to live among the humans.

Taking a seat upon the Nemeton, he waited for the Alpha to speak. Observing the pack in front of him, from the size of it, it must be an older pack. His eyes wandered before his attention was captured by a male wolf that stood on the Alpha’s left. In a crowd of gold eyes, his shone a beautiful, cold blue. There was a darkness there that would fit in his grove.  
His attention was brought back to the Alpha as she drew herself up, looking mildly irritated at Mischief’s nonchalance at being surrounded by the pack, her voice hard.

“You are trespassing on Hale Territory. State your identity and intentions and as Alpha Hale, I will decide on whether or not you will be allowed to remain.”  
Her meaning was clear, any sign of malice and she would attack him.

It was almost amusing that she thought her pack would be able to subdue him, it also spoke of arrogance that she assumed so when she didn’t even know what he was. It was clear from the look on her left hand’s face that he disapproved of her arrogance as well.  
Though mostly Mischief was rather offended, this young Alpha thought she could claim the forest as her own. The wolves may have claimed the territory but to dare try to claim the forest. Then, not only that, to dare to threaten a Dryad in their own forest. Even the other Dryads would be offended.

Mischief glared at the Alpha with such venom in his eyes that her left hand shifted as if preparing to shove his Alpha behind him should he attack. He couldn’t help but admire such loyalty. 

“This territory may be yours Alpha Hale, but to think yourself able to claim the forest as your own is nothing but arrogance. The trees have never belonged to wolves”  
As he spat out the words, the grove began to thicken and branches intertwined to form a barrier that would be difficult to pass.  
“The forest maybe your home, but you wolves should have never forgotten just how easily the trees can claim you.”

Alpha Hale looked ready to attack him only for Blue eyes to move in front of her, halting her, his attention focused on Mischief.

“We apologize for offending you; however, you are an unknown in our territory. You clearly aren’t human but we are unaware of what you are and who you are. It is our responsibility to make sure that our pack and our town are safe.”

The Wolf’s tone was respectful but his eyes gave him away, those eyes were watching his every move, though he wasn’t blind to the way the wolf’s eyes kept straying, roaming his body with more than just caution. 

“I suppose it is true that in the time I’ve been asleep, you wolves have forgotten about my kind. However, I do know that it is still polite to introduce yourself before asking someone else’s identity. Or have you wolves forgotten your manners” 

Mischief’s mocking tones set the pack on edge except for Blue eyes who instead flashed him a sharp grin before answering in the same tone.

“Of Course, excuse my dreadful manners, I am Beta Peter Hale, Left Hand of the Hale pack.”

“Well, Beta Peter, the name given to me by wolves is Mischief, but I am known as the Dark Dryad by the tree spirits.” 

____________________

Many of the pack didn’t trust Mischief, watchful of his every move, but Peter was completely taken by him. More than once the two of them have gotten into conversations late at night, as Mischief worked on his grove, that lasted for hours. The darkness within both of them resonated with each other. Peter was pushed to the edge of his pack, while Mischief was isolated from all other Dryads because they all were uncomfortable with someone who embraced their darkness.

The pack may not trust Mischief but he had his Wolf and he had the pups, who were too young to have been taught that the unknown was dangerous.  
With the Nemeton on the way to recovery, Mischief spent much of his time around the packhouse.  
The pups absolutely loved it when he came to visit, always asking endless questions, absolutely delighted when he would answer every single one as best as he could.  
Though the wolf he always looked forward to seeing the most was Peter.

___________________________________

One day while tending his grove, the last wolf Mischief expected came here to find him.  
As he turned to face his visitor Talia stood before him, her expression stern but not hostile.

“You said that you were called the Dark Dryad by the others, what exactly does that mean? I need to know if you are a danger to my pack just by being here” Her eyes flooded with the Alpha red as she stared him down “I need to know if you are a threat to Peter.”

Mischief would never hurt any of the wolves, but he wasn’t angry at being confronted. He understood that she had no reason to trust him.

“To be dark doesn’t mean I am evil” He reached down to stroke one of the delicate flowers that surrounded him “I am called the Dark Dryad because I am not afraid to kill to protect my grove, and unlike all my brethren, my groves are dangerous, eternally night, lit only by wisps. A sanctuary for the deadly and misunderstood. Sheep are not welcome in my grove”  
He then looked into Talia’s eyes. “Only wolves”

_______________________

One day as Mischief and Peter sat upon the healing Nemeton gazing up at the magic night sky that shone brightly above them, Mischief turned to gaze at his Wolf.  
His Wolf who always seemed in awe of the life he coaxed from the world around them, who would spend hours with him just because he wanted to, who matched wits with him whenever he could, who made him feel not so alone anymore.  
Only to see Peter gazing at him with a softness so many never got to see on his Wolf.

When Peter cupped his face and leaned in to kiss him, he met him halfway.

______________________

When Hunters tried to move into Beacon Hills, they soon found out that the forest really didn’t like anything that threatened its guardian’s happiness.


End file.
